And When the Daylight Fades
by Hilda-and-N
Summary: Join young Cato, a new hero fresh from the Guild, as he embarks on his journey through the unknown of Albion. As he chooses between good and evil, Jack of Blades intertwines himself within Cato's life as a malevolent force...


And When the Daylight Fades

by Hilda-and-N

I do not own Fable.

-x-x-x-

I sighed as the cool water lapped over my legs. The library arcanum was my escape; so close to my childhood memories of being raised as a hero, yet so far away from the world's troubles. As a new hero, only eighteen, I was eager to prove myself and earn renown; I was also hesitant in the fact that, when I began journeying, I would have to make so many decisions against good or against evil. I didn't want to choose. I wanted to stay neutral.

But neutrality is often a choice left unavailable to heroes.

A butterfly drifted past my head, its tiny, dainty wings fluttering in the comfortable breeze. I stepped out of the small pond and, not bothered by my wet apprentice outfit, sat in the chair by the desk. A book was open on the wood; its title read, _The Oakvale Raid._ I had found the book in the library arcanum's shelves, and had cracked it open, but stopped at the first page. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to read it; should I forgive and forget my violent past, in which my father, Brom, was ruthlessly murdered by a group of bandits? Or should I seek vengeance against the people who tore apart my family, murdered my father and possibly my mother and sister?

All these questions ran through my head. Who were the bandits? The notorious Twinblade clan? Or someone else? What was Maze doing at Oakvale during the time of the raid? What had happened to my sister? My mother?

The image of my father, bloodied and dead, laying on the ground outside my childhood home flashed through my mind. My heart clenched in sadness at the memory from a mere eight years ago. A boy of ten couldn't fuly comprehend the darkness of the world at that time; I was now, however, more than capable to imagine what darkness lurked in unexplored and uncharted regions like Darkwood, Witchwood, and Greatwood. I remembered the one disfigured man, Scythe, who had been sent to explore the Northern Wastes and hadn't returned; was I doomed to that fate, to disappear while seeking vengeance on my father's murderers?

I shook these thoughts out of my head and flipped the page of the book to the first page; it was entitled, "The Raid". I began reading, only to find that the first fifty pages or so were merely odd facts about the raid, statistics about how many raids occurred a year, and comments on the low number of heroes Oakvale had produced compared to Knothole Glade and other towns and villages.

However, when I reached the hundred page mark, the story went from cold, hard facts to brutal descriptions of the causes of death, numbers of casualties, and the low number of survivors. Out of the about one hundred inhabitants of my hometown, only nine survived, including me. I was displeased to see a list of only three names, but was surprised when my heart lifted as I read the name Rosie Potter; apparently the little girl whose teddy bear had caused me a bit of trouble had survived by hiding underneath a cart. I was happy to hear that her father and mother, along with her, survived. The trader who had sold me the chocolates that I had given to my sister, Theresa, just before the raid had, sadly, died. A few more deaths were put into detail.

Especially my father's death.

I read it out loud, the words escaping my shocked lips. "Brom Bentley, a very respected and looked-up-to man in Oakvale, was brutally murdered by bandits during the raid; he is believed to have died from blood loss. His body was punctured with multiple sword wounds, and his skull was nearly crushed."

"His son, Cato Bentley, survived and is currently training as a hero in the Heroes' Guild. Also known as Chicken Chaser for his childhood mischief, the boy is quite famous among the apprentices because of his quick mastery of the hero skills. The boy's mother, Scarlet-"

The page was ripped off at this point, and all the other pages after it were either soiled by odd black ink or ripped out. Promising that I would ask the Guildmaster if there was another copy after he was done in the Chamber of Fate, I shut the ruined book and stood up from the table. Maybe I could stop procrastinating and finish the Trader Escort quest; after all, I had recently upgraded my sword and armor using money that I had gained from servicing people around Bowerstone and the Guild. Simple bright leather, an obsidian katana, and an ebony bow were my protection; but this quest would be difficult because not only did I have to protect myself, but I also had to protect two traders. Apprentices often whispered about balverines hunting and prowling the forest; mealtimes were often a time to trade fables, legends, and rumors. Sometimes the rumors were all but dreams thought up by new apprentices, like the tale created about the White Balverine actually being the Guildmaster's brother, and they were nothing but stories. Other rumors, however, were true; such as the stories of the mayor of Bowerstone's unfairness, and how the Bordello in Darkwood was a cheap place for apprentices to celebrate their graduation.

I muttered dark words about forebodings and ruined books, and left the arcanum, huffing a sigh as the demon door closed behind me.

-x-x-x-x-x-

_"He finds you when you're sleeping,_

_and when the daylight fades,_

_all in Albion_

_fear Jack of Blades._

_He knows all your thoughts,_

_he predicts every move_

_Jack doesn't lie when he says_

_"I'm coming for you."_

_He knows which children live alone,_

_he knows who's in the dark_

_He is a mystery and all have known_

_He always hits the mark._

_He finds you when you're sleeping,_

_and when the daylight fades,_

_all in Albion_

_fear Jack of Blades..."_

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Maze_

I chuckled at the young apprentice, Cato- or, as his peers called him, Chicken Chaser- as he stuffed his mouth full of food and amused the younger apprentices. The tavern at the Guild wasn't the best stocked, but the ale was always strong and the food was always delicious. As I bit into a chicken drumstick, coated with a special sauce one of the apprentices had formulated from several different potions, I mulled over my actions that had so influenced the boy's life- bartering with Skorm and Avo to be forgiven for my misdeeds against the deities, cooperating with... _him _because I was the only hero with the brains to preserve my own life...

"Yes, I've influenced his life until now, but... but I feel as if things are out of control..." I whispered, tracing the lightning-blue mage's tattoos on my hand.

"_Oh, but things _are _out of control, old mage!" _

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-


End file.
